You can tell the deepest truths with the lies of fiction

Monthly Archives: February 2016

Writing has always saved me, it’s the bubble in which I hide from the world, the way I express what I cannot or don’t want to say, the way I get distracted. This time for the literary contest of 1000 characters, we had to write a story inspired by a painting by Edward Hopper that depicted a staircase and a door. The first thing that came to my mind was the secret hideout of Anne Frank, and for the first time I went out of my comfort zone and I wrote something absolutely foreign to my experience, although Anne was my model when I was a teenager, as Jo March was when I was a child.

I didn’t win by one vote, but the satisfaction of seeing my work on the top of the list, among the three that I liked more, it was gratifying. Enjoy it, in English first, then in Italian.

Prinsengracht 263Miep had not been to Prinsengracht since the soldiers had unhinged the movable bookcase discovering the series of steps leading to the upper floor.She looked at the staircase frightened: it seemed gloomy and hostile, yet it was the same one she had used many times to bring her friends some news, food, once even red shoes for the young Anne who with her“It’s Miep”, was always the first to break the tense silence that created when someone opened the plain wooden door.She began to climb, she trembled, and she had to hold on to the wooden handrail for support. She reached the top, she turned the gold knob and went in: no joyful voice announced it, no one came up to greet her.She picked up a book from the floor and stood in the doorway staring at the messy room, the overturned chairs, the plates shattered as the hopes of Anne who despite living as a recluse, was able to think of the beauty that still remained in the world .

The topicof theliterary contextof thisweek was“Speaking in music” andwhat better wayto explain that than the story of a musician–writer’s encounter? Becauseas I’ve already written, I find extraordinary that love could be immortalized, justby putting it intoa storyora song. The feelingwill eventually end, people will broke upordie, but whatthey had for each otherwill be eternal.UnfortunatelyI’m a notvery good writer, due either tothe limitof a thousandcharacters, or to the fact that, given to so muchreadingand writingfanfiction,Ijust havea lot of theory, but little practice, the story wasn’t notable to conveyeverything I wanted.ButI put ithereanyway.Ititled it“Yellow” as Coldplay’s song, the first one thathas been played for me.

Yellow

“-Do you know that if a musician falls for you, you will live forever?A phrase told as a joke, but it was the key that allowed me to really understand your song. I found in the text of our conversations, the ones that go on until 4 in the morning, the pace is slow as the hugs that we find it hard to dissolve, the melody is as pleasant as those kisses on the cheek approaching dangerously to lips.We’re in your studio: I scribble in my notebook waiting for the right inspiration, you’re playing the guitar; occasionally you take a break to write down something, or to see what I’m doing, but your cheeks inflames and your eyes lower when they meet mine. I smile: I never thought of being your own Michelle; I look at you one last time, then the pen slides on the paper having fun to make you step into the shoes of the protagonist of this story making you immortal as well because, you know, a writer fell in love with you”

Today’s subject is “when art meets art”, that is, what happens when two brilliant minds meet.

It all started about a month ago when Brendan, frontman of Wheatus and great man, posted a cartoon depicting two Ewoks that, in the guise of two Jehovah’s witnesses, sought to propagate their vision of Star Wars. He asked who the author was and I recognized suddenly the Polish artist Pawel Kuczynski whose works stimulate reflection on the social, political and economic life through satire. They are images that at first make you smile and entertain you, but then, if you look at them carefully, they show us the contradictions and problems of the world in which we live; exactly like Wheatus in their songs. If you remember them only for “Teenage Dirtbag” you have a lot of catching: their music is extraordinary. At first you are conquered by the rhythm, the cheerful melodies, but if you go through the lyrics, you’ll discover a profound condemnation of our society, or the condemnation of the bad habits of people.

I’m happy to have contributed, albeit to a very small part (with a link), to bring together these two “visionaries” artists, the result is the cover for the next single to be released soon, shortly anticipating the album number seven of the band from Brooklyn. This is the scene of a breakfast that instead of food, has pills and medicines. An example of alienation, of our drugged minds, a complaint against the American medicine that thinks to cure young people by putting them on meds? With BBB & Co. you never know, so waiting confidently for the new song to come out, I enjoy the good fortune of knowing such a lucid, critical person who knowsa lot, as Brendan is (and moreover he has collaborated with JD and Sandy, theyre working on new music, but nobody wants to tells me anything, nasty guys!)

Last night, after the shower, I looked at my reflection in the mirror, took the scissors and chopped off my hair that reached my mid-back and which was my only pride. I don’t know what came over me, but for sure the fact that I can no longer use the refusal of food to calm my neuroses, played a big part in it.

In the past years I used to starve myself and I could stay a couple of days only drinking a cup of tea in the morning and being ok. Now even skipping one of the five small meals the gastroenterologist recommended me, causes me excruciating pain and if it comes to dinner, it leads to a sudden awakening in the middle of the night with nausea and vomit.

For years anorexia has been the silent method I used to kill me every day without committing suicide and today I must admit I feel quite “lost” without it. Luckily I have a lot of things that distract and help me and a few caring people who always have my back. Of course they’re not my family (they even haven’t noticed that I cut my hair), but I don’t care: as I stated in another post, I stopped letting people having power over me.

The dichotomy between real life and my dreamed one is wide and it hurts realizing that I’ve found out why I really want only now that I no longer have the right age, the means and the health to go out there and grab it. I’m not ungrateful, I know that if you observe me from the outside I look like a lucky person because it seems that I have everything. And in that “it seems” lays my whole world.

I have changed a lot lately: feeling bad physically helped me to put things in perspective, I learned to recognize true friends, those who listen to me because they care and not to give me their opinion, those who give me incentives instead of making me mainstream.I don’t get pissed off anymore, because those who can disturb our mood control us and life is too short to pass it getting angry with people who don’t deserve our attention, I prefer to dedicate myself to my interests and to people I am in tune with.

I complain less and only if I’m in physical pain, there are things I can not change, I have to accept them or live them with a less tragic attitude. I also learned to accept my depression instead of fighting it and to stop mistaking gratitude for what I have with real happiness

I stopped looking for others, to be always the one that takes the first step or the empathetic, since few have the grace to walk in my shoes instead of going up to the pulpit and judge me. Too often my fear of being alone made me stick to the wrong people, now I know who I can really rely on.

I realized that I will never be of those women who feel complete with shopping, who are proud of their home and crave the food processor for displaying their creations. Just give me a book to read or write, music, a walk along the sunny seaside, programming my next trip to make me happy.

MCDonald’s has finally introduced a gluten free bun to the menu, news that, beyond the personal opinions of those who boycott multinational corporations or consider unhealthy eating in a fast food, is great. Positive for young people who can now join their peers without having to eat first at home and for those who have difficulty in finding a gluten-free meal.I haven’t tried it because I don’t like burgers and didn’t eat the Mac even when gluten wasn’t a problem for me, so go on trust. Trust also in food operators: you have to cross your fingers that your order is not contaminated, recommendations are never enough even at the cost of going through pain in the ass.

In London I’ve never had this concern: I often ate at Honest Burger (which has all kinds of burgers and also the grilled chicken option), I went down to the kitchen where I saw that orders were handled by the person assigned to salads, so no contamination risk. The staff is friendly and attentive, there is the possibility to take away and eat your gluten free meal on a bench with romantic views (but as always, this is another story) and fries with rosemary are many, tasty and hand crafted. The sandwich is good, the gluten free option costs £1 more than normal one and generally the prices are higher than those of a fast food restaurant, but the quality makes the difference. There are several Honest Burger locations scattered across London (Brixton, Soho, Camden, Portobello, King’s Cross, Oxford Circus, Tooting, Liverpool Street, Clapham, Old Street, Peckham and one just opened in Covent Garden) then you have no excuse not to go.